


Fuck, Honey!

by TaliskerMortem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Lack of Communication, M/M, Pet Names, fuck buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 19:29:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11698374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaliskerMortem/pseuds/TaliskerMortem
Summary: It comes out during sex. Of course it does. It just slips past his lips like every other meaningless utterance that he tends to spew out when Derek’s cock is ramming into him like that. Only, somehow, this particular word carries with it connotations of something that they most definitely are not.OR: The one in which Derek and Stiles are fuck buddies until Stiles accidentally gives him a pet name in the middle of a rather rough round of sex.





	Fuck, Honey!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know anymore, this idea came to me out of the blue so enjoy.

How, exactly, Stiles and Derek ended up where they were remained a mystery to the rest of the pack. One day they had been plotting the downfall of an interfering coven of witches and the next they were walking around stinking of each other’s cum. That was the only thing that changed. Well, that and when pack meetings were called at the loft Stiles was occasionally already there, rather than half an hour late. Everything else, however, remained the same. They still bickered and argued about every tiny thing imaginable; there were no subtle touches or prolonged gazes; none of the eye fucking the pack had reluctantly prepared themselves for… just the same old Stiles and Derek that they had always been. Only now, they stank of each other.

The pack speculated. They came up with wild theories about how it happened, they placed bets on how long it would last, they kept dropping (not so) subtle jokes about it when they were around but ultimately, none of them ever directly asked them about it. Which was probably for the best, as all their theories were a far cry from the simple, boring truth: it had just happened. No fireworks, no trumpets, no confetti… they just came too close to death, too many times.

Stiles wasn’t too sure what happened himself, to be honest. He didn't remember making the conscious decision to kiss Derek, didn't remember who initiated it, and in truth, didn't really care. Derek was a great lay even if he was a pain in his ass the rest of the time. It had just happened. And after it had happened, they had lain on the bed in awkward silence until Stiles had rolled off and taken a shower, from which he had emerged to an empty apartment.

The next time he remembered better. The sharp tug on his shirt as Derek pulled him in, the rough graze of his stubble as he kissed him. The time after that he remembered too. The forth time was a little foggy but the fifth was crystal clear. After that they began to blur together, hazy images of chiselled abs and strings of cum, the phantom feeling of being filled and fucked. And Stiles loved it.

So when it happened, he didn't see it coming.

* * *

It came out during sex. Of course it did. It just slipped past his lips like every other meaningless utterance that he tended to spew out when Derek’s cock was ramming into him like that. Only, somehow, this particular word carried with it connotations of something that they most definitely were _not_.

“Fuck, _honey_!” Stiles moaned, choking off a whimper as Derek made his vision swim. It didn't register at first, because why should it? Stiles was always chatting shit when he was being fucked – the only way to shut him up was to otherwise occupy his mouth and even then he tended to make obscene noises anyway. But then Derek stilled mid-thrust and made a pained, whimpering noise like he had been punched. And then he was coming. Sinking back into Stiles' warmth and releasing his load with the most guttural groan Stiles had ever heard from him – and considering the shithole that was their life, he had heard quite a few.

“Uh…” was all Stiles could articulate.

Forcing himself to regain any semblance of intelligence that Derek had been in the process of fucking out of him, Stiles tried to figure out what, exactly, he had done to warrant such a reaction from Derek. Because Derek never came first. _Never_. It was like some kind of challenge he had set himself, maybe he felt like as the Alpha he had to prove himself somehow. Which was ridiculous, if you asked Stiles, but Derek never did.

And then it hit him, that stupid little world, that inconspicuous death sentence. Because whatever fragile arrangement they had had up until that point was absolutely, irrevocably _slaughtered_ by that little bitch of a word.

 _Honey_.

He had called Derek _honey_.

“Uh…” he repeated, even more confused.

Because he may have called Derek honey, but Derek had _cum_ because he had called him honey. And honestly, Stiles wasn't sure which part freaked him out more.

Derek was refusing to look at him, the tips of his ears now burning bright red as his eyes stayed resolutely fixed on the bed sheet by Stiles’ hip. He was still buried in to the hilt, as if somehow that would disguise the fact that he had just cum because Stiles had _called him an endearment_. Because that is what it was. In this setting anyway. Because, yeah sure if some meathead was yelling it out of a van then maybe it was not so endearing but in a _bedroom_? Whilst having _sex_?

That’s the type of shit married couples did.

Stiles did not have time to process any further because suddenly Derek was giving up all pretences and pulling out of him abruptly, turning to grab the towel hanging on the back of the door and wrapping it around his waist. Stiles was struck by the odd thought that it looked like Derek was trying to preserve some of his modesty. And really? They were long past that.

“You should probably leave now,” Derek huffed, still refusing to look anywhere near Stiles.

“Um, no, actually, nuh uh, I should definitely not be leaving,” Stiles rambled. “Because _that_ –” he gestured vaguely at Derek’s crotch. “That’s something we should probably talk about and by probably I mean definitely because I need to know what just happened there dude, like I _need_ to know, I will not let it go, you know that right? Like never? Because what the fuck even _was_ that?”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek growled but his heart wasn't in it and that, more than anything, was telling.

“You liked it,” Stiles stated unnecessarily.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“You liked it. You liked me calling you honey.”

By now both of Derek’s ears were completely red and the blush was spreading across his face too.

“Oh my god... that was- you get off on _domesticity_!” Stiles flailed. Derek actually growled then, eyes flashing red and Stiles’ cock, which had begun to soften with all the chatter, perked up instantly. A fact Stiles was studiously ignoring. “Wait! Is it _me_? Or is it just like the idea of it? Like in the abstract sense? Give me something dude, this is a moment – you have to, oh my god why are you still all the way over there?” he reached out, arms doing some strange gesture meant to lure Derek back to the bed.

The older man looked entirely perplexed; confusion, self doubt and the tiniest glimmer of hope were warring across his face. Slowly, he stepped back towards the bed until he was within arms reach of Stiles, who snagged him as soon as he was able, pulling him firmly back onto the bed and straddling him, caging him in with his arms.

“I’m going to need you to use your words for once, big guy,” he smiled, voice light-hearted but the pounding of his heart beneath his ribs belying his calm. “What exactly is it that you want?”

“You,” slipped out of Derek’s mouth seemingly unbidden if the surprised look on his own face was anything to go by. Stiles heart-rate ratcheted up a notch.

“Like we’ve been? As a fuck buddy?” Stiles hedged. Derek shook his head, grip tightening on Stiles’ waist. “As more? As something that could potentially lead to things like calling each other stupid pet names becoming the norm, kind of thing?” A pause. And then Derek nodded. “Oh my god dude, you’re such a dick!” Stiles suddenly cursed, sitting back up. Derek’s face instantly fell before shuttering back to its customary blankness. “No! No, oh my god, that is not what I meant – well it is what I meant but I just meant we could have been doing that all along! All this time I thought you just wanted me for a stress-relieving fuck! Someone you trusted enough not to stab you while you were vulnerable but not someone you would ever considering anything _more_ with!”

“But… but you left?” Derek frowned. “The first time, you left.”

“I went to take a shower, dude! And to give you some time to think, you were all awkward and closed off; I thought I was making you uncomfortable. I didn't leave the apartment – that was you, remember.”

“I thought… I thought-”

“Yeah, well you thought wrong,” Stiles said and it was meant to come out teasingly but it ended up as a soft whisper that ghosted across Derek’s lips before Stiles kissed it away.

“You want me?” Derek said into the kiss, still needing clarification.

“I want you,” Stiles promised. “In anyway I can have you… _honey_.”

* * *

Things did change after that. And the pack almost wished Stiles and Derek had stayed as just mildly antagonistic pack mates who reeked of each other occasionally. Because now? Now they reeked of each other _all the time_. They were still mildly antagonistic but now there was always an edge to it. A very, very _sexual_ edge that the rest of the pack would rather never have witnessed. Just like some other things that they would _really_ rather not have witnessed. Because honestly, soundproofing was great and all unless you forgot to knock.

Boyd won the bet though. And Derek made him buy Stiles a milkshake with the money.

**Author's Note:**

> [TUMBLR](http://taliskermortem.tumblr.com/)


End file.
